Christmas Surprises
by fiona249
Summary: Hermione and Draco get three surprises on Christmas. One-shot, set the year after the fic "Never Say No" and in that continuity.


"No, Astoria, _no_," Draco snarled into the telephone. The phone was yet another improvement the stunning Hermione Granger had brought into his home and his life – along with messes of paper in the study, negligees on the bedroom floor, feminine hygiene supplies in the bathroom, and a redheaded imp.

Hermione gave Draco a sympathetic smile as she entered the room, bearing eggnog. She put one beside Hugo, who was lying on the floor, his face screwed up in concentration as he penned his tardy letter to Santa. She brought the other over to Draco, placing it in his free hand. "She still won't let us have Scorp for Christmas?" she asked softly. When Draco nodded curtly, Hermione sighed. "Dammit. Drink the eggnog, it will help."

Taking a sip, Draco had to hold in a cough – he could see why she thought it would help since his was practically pure alcohol! "Thanks," he managed to croak to her.

"What?" Astoria's tinny voice echoed through the phone. "Thanks for what?"

Draco returned his attention to his ex-wife. From the sound of it, she was still talking to the wrong end of the phone. "Thanks for making me happy every day about our divorce. But listen, I _have_ to have Scorpius, it's _Christmas _tomorrow. We agreed he would only visit you until midday today!"

"_You_ agreed," Astoria snapped. "I didn't. I want him to meet darling Raphael. You know what you're problem is? You're jealous."

"Yes," Draco said angrily. "I personally always dreamed of attracting a twenty-year-old male-model, but you got there first. Dang. Now listen, Scorpy had better be here in fifteen minutes, or I'm not paying you another cent. I'll even go to court over it."

There was a sharp indrawn breath, and then Astoria answered. "You wouldn't." _Click. Beep. Beep. Beep._

"She hung up," Draco said, staring at the receiver in disbelief. "That bitch."

"Hah!" Hugo grinned and pumped the air with a fist. "You owe the swear jar one galleon. Listen, will Claws know where to find Santa?"

"Course," Draco made himself smile at his soon-to-be-stepson. "Has Claws ever failed you before?" Claws was Hugo's owl, a birthday gift from Draco the year before. He was a little ball of brown feathers who followed Hugo everywhere, staring with beady eyes. Sometimes when Draco came to read Hugo's bedtime story he would see Claws sitting on the bedpost, staring at Hugo's face with single-minded adoration – it gave him the willies.

Draco sat down on the couch, and Hermione immediately sat next to him so he could put his arm around her. "Astoria still refusing?" Hermione said quietly. She knew how important his son's presence was for him on Christmas Day.

"Uh-huh," Draco closed his eyes, relishing the warmth of the fire and Hermione's nearness. Even after nearly a year together, the immediate happiness that spread through him at her touch still surprised him. "She _knows_ how important this is. It's the first Christmas we've all spent together. The first holiday, really."

This was, indeed, the first time Hermione's daughter Rose had agreed to spend the school holidays at Malfoy Manor with her mother and brother. Since her parents had split she had resolutely aligned herself on her father's side, staying at his apartment at all times and (according to Hugo, who visited her there) having a pretty miserable time there. This Christmas was the first sign of her weakening and Draco was thrilled about it.

The sulky twelve-year-old herself stepped into the room then, glaring poisonously at Draco. "Your decorations are stupid," she announced baldly.

"Hey!" Hugo exclaimed. "I did most of them, 'long with Harold."

Rose hesitated, and then continued anyway. "I saw a skull hanging somewhere. Memento from your Death Eater days?" Since arriving three days ago, Rose hadn't said a single nice word to Draco, and in fact went out of her way to insult him. Her catchphrase seemed to be "Dad does it better" – applied to everything from Christmas trees to meals.

Hermione privately thought it said much of Draco's patience that he hadn't been tempted into using _Silencio_ on her.

"Nope," Draco said calmly, in reply to the "skull" question. "Hugo thought it would be fun to keep out some of the Halloween decorations. He thinks they make the Manor look cool."

"They do," Hugo said absentmindedly. He finished tying the letter to Claws' …well, claws. He stood back, looking worried as Claws took off. "I hope he gets there quickly. I mean, I know I should have written weeks ago, but I couldn't decide what I wanted…"

Hermione, who knew that all three of the items he'd been debating between were already wrapped and hidden under the drawing room floor, just smiled. Over the months she had learnt to take Draco's riches in stride, though she still made token efforts to dissuade him from spending too much on her son. "I'm sure he'll get there in time," Hermione said comfortingly. "Actually, it's getting quite late. Have you gotten milk and cookies for Santa yet?"

"Or hard scotch and body chocolate?" Draco said, so quietly that only Hermione heard him. She gave him a light whack and the ghost of a smile to show her amusement.

Rose gave a sniff, and then smiled a little evilly. She shot a glance at Draco and then spoke loudly to Hugo. "Did you know, Hugo, that Santa's not actually -"

"- a fan of cookies," Draco interpolated quickly. "Give him some of your mother's Christmas Cake, he'll love that."

"Good idea," said Hugo, always one to be distracted by the next interesting thing. "Can I have some too?"

Rose glared at Draco. "Don't interrupt me," she spat. "I was saying that Santa's not -" Hugo, not listening, was out the door before she could finish. "Real," she concluded lamely, lacking an audience. Hermione looked at Draco, indicating he should handle this one. Besides anything else, his strained politeness to Rose was starting to get on her nerves – she'd almost be happier if they actually argued.

"Don't you dare say that to Hugo," Draco said coldly, standing up. "He's young enough to still believe in Santa and other things. You should let him."

Rose tried to match his even stare, but had to look away. "You're _lying _to him. And you can't speak to me like that, you're not my father!"

"And you're not acting like much of a sister," Draco pointed out. "Some lies are good. Let it go."

"You can't tell me what to do!"

"While you're in my house, of course I can," Draco sighed suddenly. "I'd like for us to get along, if we could. It's Christmas Eve, after all." He looked at her, not very hopefully, and extended a hand as if to shake.

After a moment's pause, Rose spat "I _hate_ you," and left the room.

Hermione and Draco just looked at each other. He sat back down and wrapped an arm around her. "Fa la la la la, la la la la?" Hermione said ironically, and leaned into the warm embrace of the man she loved.

* * *

Christmas morning arrived, bringing with it three separate surprises for the Weasley/Granger/Malfoys.

"Dad! I'm here! I'm HERE!" Scorpius burst into Draco and Hermione's room, his face alight. "I told Astoria that Santa wouldn't know where I was and threw a huge tantrum. Made her bring me back straight away this morning." He grinned. He'd known the truth about Santa for more than a year, courtesy of his fellow Hogwarts students. Shame his mother wasn't smart enough to realise that, really.

"Great!" Draco was dressed in his pajamas. He and Hermione had recognised that on Christmas night they were unlikely to remain undisturbed, so lying naked and sated hadn't really been an option. "I'm so glad you're here!" He rolled out of bed and hugged his son.

Hermione, yawning, stuck her head out of the blankets to smile at Scorp blearily. "Hey, Scorpy, Merry Christmas."

Scorp turned his grin on her. "Merry Christmas!" Hermione knew, because Draco had told her in private, that Scorp was working his way up to calling her 'Mum'. Years of only having Astoria as a mother had nearly soured him towards the whole idea, but he really had bonded to Hermione remarkably quickly. Sometimes, without meaning to, she thought of him as her son.

"What time is it?" Hermione asked, rubbing her eyes. It felt like she'd only been asleep fifteen minutes, tops.

"Seven o'clock," Scorpy answered instantly. He turned his wide smile to his father. "Present opening time! I'll go get ready!" He raced out of the room, presumably to wake up the others.

"You open the presents at _seven_?" Hermione said weakly. "In the _morning_? Aren't you supposed to wait till after lunch?"

"Well," Draco said sheepishly, "He always wanted to unwrap the presents earlier when he was little, and now it's just… well, tradition."

"Soft-touch," Hermione accused, burying herself under the blankets again. She shrieked when they were torn off her, and groaned as Hugo's freckled face appeared above her.

"Come on, Mum! Present time!"

* * *

The second surprise was Rose.

Though she wasn't exactly warm towards Draco, she behaved cordially toward him as Hugo shoved Santa hats onto all of their heads, and spent what seemed like an hour deciding which present each person should open first. She even managed a wintry smile for him.

"Okay," Hugo finally decided. "I'll open this one from Santa, Mum can open the one from Draco, Scorpy can open one of his from Santa, here's one for Draco from me, and Rose can open this one from Santa."

Rose grabbed the parcel from her brother, and scrutinized it. Hermione knew that as well as the standard "From Santa" on it, Draco had written a note saying "I look forward to us being a family, Rose". She hoped he wasn't about to get his nose bitten off for the kind gesture.

Rose glanced at Draco, then returned her attention to the present. As the boys ripped into theirs, she methodically undid hers leaving the paper perfectly intact. Finally, she was left holding a stack of books. They looked ancient.

"Ugh," Scorpy wrinkled his nose at them. "Gross. Books. What a lousy present."

"No they aren't," Rose traced the front of the top book, transfixed. "Look, this foreword is actually _written_ by Jane Austen. In her handwriting. You can see the ink splotches. It breathes history, and literature… _Wow,_ Merlin himself actually _signed _this one…" She glanced at Hermione, as if to ask how her mother could have found these and managed to buy them, but Hermione just looked over to Draco very obviously.

"Boring," Scorpy said, returning his attention to his own gift.

Rose, however, turned to Draco, a trembling smile on her lips. She was barely able to drag her eyes off the books that she knew only he could have bought her. "Thank you," she breathed, staring at him. "Oh, thank you." There was nothing Rose valued more than books. And books like these… wow. Hermione wondered if she was going over all the harsh, nasty things she'd said and feeling guilty. If Draco had bought jewellery or a broom or something, Rose could have told herself she was being bought off, but the amount of effort and time that would have to go into finding these priceless books was immense and they both knew it.

She hadn't gotten him anything.

"You're welcome, Rose," Draco said, equally as solemn. After a second, he reached out a hand again.

Rose ignored it, and hugged him hard.

* * *

The third surprise was just for Draco, after the three children had dispersed to play a game outside. Draco had sent Harold the head house elf with them, partly in case of lion attacks and partly because Harold would enjoy playing as much as they would, however much he might deny it.

"Do you like your present?" Draco said, kissing the love his life tenderly on the lips.

Hermione glanced down at the intricate, goblin-wrought silver locket. "It's beautiful," she said sincerely. "I love it, thanks." Inside there were some items. These were the first baby tooth a dragon had lost, a tiny bit of silk soaked in a unicorn's tear, and even a tiny phoenix feather – all of which were magical talismans which brought luck and happiness to the wearer, and ridiculously expensive because of it. There was also space for a photo, and Hermione knew exactly what she'd put there.

"I'm glad," Draco traced her cheek with one of his fingers, marvelling at how beautiful she was.

Hermione smiled, a wonderful light in her eyes. "I've got something for you, too."

"You didn't have to get me anything," Draco said honestly. He had enough money to buy anything he wanted, but it was more than that – he thought Hermione herself was enough of a gift. He couldn't believe she'd agreed to marry him, to be with him forever. Sometimes it all seemed like a dream.

"Well," Hermione smiled. She couldn't _stop_ smiling. "Firstly, I got some clothing I think you'll like to see – in the privacy of our room. And some other stuff I think you'll enjoy just as much. Of course, I also got you some new clothes, and a book I thought you'd like. All that was going to be your present."

"Going to be?" Draco said, looking confused.

"My new present's going to be a little late, I'm afraid." Her mouth twitched. Then she broke into a huge grin. "I'm pregnant, Draco! We're going to have a baby!"

"Oh, Merlin, oh, Merlin," All Draco could do was stare at her, a huge, crazy smile appearing on his face. "We're going to have a baby! A _baby!_" He lifted her up and twirled her around, grinning like a maniac. "A _baby_!" Finally, out of breath, he put her down, still unable to stop staring at her. "I love you so much, Hermione."

"I love you, too," Hermione murmured, her eyes wide and cheeks flushed from exhilaration. She leaned in for a kiss. "Merry Christmas, Draco."

* * *

**Yeah, fluff central. I like it, though. I hope that Christmas tomorrow is brilliant for all of you!**


End file.
